#Post DMC 5

[that-gay-guy-from-hell]

I wonder how many times Sin Devil Triggered Vergil's accidentally hit things with his tail. He's been through a LOT of forms throughout his life but the closest thing to a "tail" he's ever had was Nelo Angelo's cape.

     Just-- this is kind of hyper-specific but y'all know the scene from Robots where they first show Aunt Fanny (this one); I just imagine this is what it's like the first handful of times that Vergil uses his Sin Trigger. Just swinging his tail around by accident and hitting

EVERYTHING.

     I mean, he wouldn't be so soft spoken as her but I think it would be the same vibe.      Small fic; ignore some dumb logic-- =      Rain heavily poured down onto the broken pavement as the three Sparda descendants stood together. It had been a long day and the targeted devil of today's contract was upon a high building, blissfully unaware of the death that was going to befall them.      A Sin Devil Triggered Vergil and human Nero were currently going over the game plan about how to dispose of said devil. Dante was acting as a sort of lookout, standing off the side behind Vergil.      Through a heavily distorted voice, Vergil spoke, "Are you sure about this?"      "Yeah," Nero nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets, "I'll be fine; it's not like I haven't flown before."      The plan was simple, Vergil was going to carry Nero up to the target where he'd snatch the devil with his "wings", dropping it right down to Dante; who would be waiting in his own Sin Devil Trigger.      Vergil turned to speak to his brother, pivoting around, "Dante--?"      A grunt left Dante's lips as he felt Vergil's tail whip into his middle, catching his clothes on the sharp scales and getting snagged stuck.      Confused, Vergil turned the other way, causing his tail to move as well. Dante did his best to try and unravel his shirt but was unable to. Loud hearty laughter came from Nero as he watched.      Dante shouted at his twin, "Would you stop moving?"      Freezing in place, Vergil flinched as he felt Dante gently tug the shirt free. Though the scales aren't sensitive, this was still a very new sensation to the blue devil.      Now free, Dante came around front, his shirt in ribbons, "You owe me a new shirt."      Tilting his head in confusion, Vergil waited for Dante to elaborate; completely unaware of his tail that was flicking about.      However, it was Nero who chimed in, "Should get a blanket too- or some bubble wrap- No, wait, I've got it!" He smiled with another loud laugh, "Pool noodles!"      Dante joined the laughter, "That's a great idea; we should get the bright-colored ones too-"      "Just to be safe," a thick layer of sarcasm filled Nero's voice, "His scales blend in so well with the environment, you know."      As the pair laughed, Vergil let out a low huff, crossing his arms, "What are you two on about?"      Dante walked over to his twin, placing a heavy hand on one of the silver-scaled shoulder pauldrons adorning Vergil's shoulder, "That deadly weapon that's coming out of your ass-"      "It comes from the middle of my back," a small huff left through his teeth, shoving Dante's hand away, "Perhaps it would be best not to stand directly behind me, Dante."      "Yeah- Yeah, sure," Dante gave a dismissive wave, "you still need to learn to control your tail, Verge-"      "I can control it just fine. Now," he continued straight through, not allowing the others to rebuke his statement, "could we get this over with? Or would you rather waste more time?"      Rolling his eyes, Dante shook his head, "You really gotta learn to loosen up, Vergil-- have some fun," with a smile, Dante Sin Triggered and awaited orders from the cranky blue devil.

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 82: Wounds

Chapter 82: Wounds

Note: Huh… I need better time management lol. Looks like there are some growing pains with this new schedule lol sorry everyone.

(-~-)

“So… do you typically attack anything that moves while in that state, or am I an exception?” Gustave’s tone was calm despite the situation at hand. He seemed unshaken by the circumstances, more pressing issues occupying his thoughts as he attended Sirrus’s injury, much to the wordless protests of his protege.

Sirrus's preference for V to have his injuries attended to first was clear as he grasped Gustave’s sleeve gently, gesturing towards V. But the older man shut down the notion, his assessments of how was closer to death unchanged. Sirrus had been wounded for far longer than Gustave was comfortable with, even if he didn’t show it.

“I’m sorry,” V said softly, his breath shaky as he remained on his side on the floor. He was a tangled mess of limbs and fabric, what remained of the silken robe he wore draped over and around him like the roots of a tree. His hair clung to his face as his breath shuddered, his eyes only half open as he attempted to cope with a mixture of pain, exhaustion, and blood loss. He was drained. And much like his red-haired companion, he didn’t feel his body making any effort to heal.

Gustave remained at Sirrus’s side, stanching the bleeding as he did something that V couldn’t discern. His view from his place on the floor wasn’t especially good, but the fact that his companions had parked themselves against the back wall of the apartment made it slightly easier to see him. If only barely.

V registered a shift in Sirrus’s demeanor as he clenched his teeth and shuddered, clearly the direct result of whatever Gustave had just done to him. His eyes watered as he looked over at the older man weakly, seemingly communicating something to him without speaking. With his back turned to the young summoner, V couldn’t tell what had happened, but he did take note of the way his friend’s chest rose and fell, his eyes closing as he seemed to slump harder against the wall. 

But after a moment he exhaled and reopened his eyes, his gaze slowly falling onto V. His eyes lingered on him, seemingly taking in every detail of his appearance. Assessing his condition to the best of his abilities without moving from his resting position. Silently worrying over him as the weight of everything that had occurred that day seeped into his bones. It was a miracle they’d both made it out of that tower alive, let alone back to the apartment to convalesce. They were fortunate, indeed. But that had been close. Too close.

“Don’t be. If I were anyone else, you’d be dead. Your instincts did not betray you.” Gustave stood and adjusted his shirt, smoothing it despite the fact that it was darkened beyond repair from the crimson blood that sullied it. His words were directed towards V although he did not turn to face him. Instead, his gaze fell towards the back window, out into the distance towards something V could only guess at.

He attempted to sit up, only to think better of it a moment later as he received a disapproving look from Gustave. The older gentleman was wiping his hands on what remained of his shirt, the side holster his revolver resided in visible to him for the first time. Ah, so that’s where that was. No wonder it was rarely in his line of sight.

“It seems my senses are… heightened in that state,” V confessed, breathlessly, his body no less sore than it had been since they’d arrived. Worse, even. It felt like his entire body was covered in large, deep paper cuts that ached worse every single time he took a breath. He shuttered using all of his mental energy to stay as still as possible while focusing on his breathing. Shallow and slow. That was what hurt the least at the moment. “I think I now understand why being around you has such an effect on me.”

V felt a tingle spread across his arms and chest, shivering as he closed his eyes and laid his head on his floor.

“The real question here is,” Griffon manifested, lighting on the back of the couch as he looked tentatively at V and shook his head. He ruffled his feathers before continuing to address Gustave, his question still hanging on the tip of his beak. “Why bother with a gun when you can do that? I couldn’t even manifest! Why not just barbeque anything that looks at ya funny with the full concentrated power of the sun? Seems pretty efficient if you ask me.”

Something akin to a friendly smirk crossed Gustave’s face, if only for a moment.

“For the same reason your master does not remain in his demonic form at all times. It takes its toll. And it is wholly unnecessary. My skill in battle is more than enough.” He answered simply, glancing over at V. It seemed that he was declining. It was probably best that he get to him sooner rather than later.

Griffon considered the option before nodding and making a sound that indicated that they were on the same page before retreating to his nonphysical form. It was best to not push V’s limits at a time like this, but he’d felt compelled to ask.

Sirrus let out a soft groan, shifting as he scooted away from the wall to reposition himself near the couch. He stayed out of the path, unable to so much as stand and not hoping to achieve that just yet. But he did want to be closer to V. Close enough to rest his hand on him and show him that he was there. He looked to be in a bad way, and the sight of it made his heart sink.

V flinched at his touch, opening his eyes just enough to see what was going on. But as soon as his eyes rested upon his friend, a barely perceptible, tired smile spread across his face before fading again as he closed his eyes and his body went still again. Sirrus looked down at him, fondness tinged with the pain that had reawakened during his relocation. Gustave would only be a moment. And thank goodness for it.

For now, Sirrus would comfort him. He would stay at his side. Always.

(-~-)

V, you are in good hands! Possibly. Maybe. Gustave, please don’t be the embodiment of the “Fuck you guy who is my doctor now” meme lol. He’s been through enough. Again, sorry for the late uploads. But despite that, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! See you in the comments and next week on Friday. Bye bye!

[sparkie96]

13 Days of Kinktober: Day One; “Hunted”

Post Devil May Cry 5. After the shit show that was the Qliphoth Incident in Redgrave, Vergil and Dante return from the Underworld. Vergil is seemingly alright due to having escaped before while Dante is…off.

Enter Leon Kennedy, supportive friend and accidental victim to one feral Demon Omega.

Rated for Language, Canon-Typical Violence, and Sexual Themes.

[zandoog]

[soybean-official]

(not ship)

[harpybats]

[vngful]

[zeeckz]

[the-phantom-otaku]

The nice and naughty cat of the week

(I shouldn’t have had power in my back pocket)

Alternatives:

[sunkly]

[skvaderarts]

Petrichor Chapter 81: Blunder

Chapter 81: Blunder

Note: Annnnd… My ass is late again. I’m sorry. Funny enough, I didn’t realize it until Wednesday that I hadn’t posted these chapters last week despite being done, and then I fell asleep on Friday before hitting publish. Then got busy today and… yeah. I’m trying, guys. My bad.

(-~-)

She’d taken precisely zero time to pack, grabbing the overnight bag that she’d pre-packed for her move and insisting that everything else could be procured along the way.

Their first stop had been the train station, and the walk back had been more of a trial than the first, the rain returning with a vengeance as the eye of the storm that had hunted them during their ride to town returned with a vengeance, drenching them and halting all train travel for several hours as they waited for the first train back with anxious hearts and bated breath.

Vivienne stood at the boarding platform in resolute silence, her breath even despite the subtle trembling of arms and legs as she clutched her luggage bag to her chest. Her eyes spoke of many things. There she stood, muddle-minded,  a misty-eyed woman whose face wore a tormented mixture of grief, anticipation, and anguish. She hadn’t thought about anything other than seeing him again since they’d left, not even what she’d say when her eyes fell upon him. But how could she be expected to think anything remotely sane at a time like this? The fact her eyes hadn’t fully glazed over, her unshed tears blinding her and her breath devolved into unbroken sobs was testament enough to her resolve.

She had to see him. That was the only clear thought in her mind.

Vergil observed her in silence. His calm exterior did not betray the deep-seated sense of conflict and longing he felt towards her. Longing to come to her side and comfort her, but none of the reassurance that doing so would be appropriate, given everything that had happened between them. 

After what felt like a lifetime, the trains were cleared for departure and they were able to board, taking a corner booth near a window. Their view was largely obscured by the rolling fog and pouring rain, but it was still a pleasant if not ironically appropriate view, given the current circumstances. Oh, how gloomy the weather had decided to be on such a harrowing occasion.

“So, you're moving, hu? Where to?”

Dante was the first to break the silence. He’d stayed silent, not wanting to intrude on the contemplative atmosphere, but after a while, he had to admit that being the third wheel in this specific situation was somewhat tortuous.

Vivienne’s eyes drifted over from their place at the window, her head resting against her palm as she leaned against the window. She’d been watching the rolling fields fly by, what little of them she could make out, at least. Something else to focus her mind on given the task at hand.

“I don’t know yet.” She admitted, her voice strained and her eyes tired. The reality of the situation had sunk in long ago, but it still didn’t feel like it. Not to her. “Everything you saw was on its way to storage or back to a rental company. I don’t keep much with me.”

Vergil shifted in his seat slightly, turning his head a minuscule amount to look at her. He seemed deep in thought, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he blinked several times in rapid succession.

“You relocate often.” It wasn’t a question, but an observation. This was the second address she’d moved from that he knew of, and at first glance, she hadn’t spent much time at either location. He recalled the elderly woman they’d spoken to stating that she kept to herself. When he’d known her a lifetime ago she'd been outgoing and ostentatious in her own right. Two decades had passed since then and neither of them were the young adults they’d been at the time, but that still seemed like a drastic change in her fundamental personality. Had she become more reclusive since their child’s presumed death? Or was there something more going on?

“Staying in one location for very long seems to attract the wrong kind of attention.” She divulged earnestly. It was the honest truth, even if the reasons for it were something she didn’t fully understand. But truth be told, she’d stopped questioning things a long time ago. It was so much easier to just accept things as they were and work within the confines of what she knew she could change. What she could predict.

“You’re being hunted?” It was Dante’s turn to chime in, his tone laced with concern and confusion in equal measure. A shared look between himself and his now silent twin was enough to tell him that neither of them had expected this to be the case, but reality always seemed to be stranger than fiction in these cases. Nothing had ever been straightforward that involved their bloodline. That was their curse.

Nodding in confirmation, she gave them a serious look. One somehow more drenched in existential dread than the one she’d worn previously. She almost seemed to be afraid to admit that out loud, perhaps for fear that it would inspire some sort of negative and undesired reaction. Or retaliation from the unspoken source of her torment. “On and off since the day they attacked the house. It’s become much less frequent in recent years, but I still relocate every year, give or take. I’m not taking any chances.”

Vergil gave her a deeply troubled look, the anguish and dissatisfaction that he felt towards that answer evident in everything from the slight shift in his demeanor to the way he clenched his teeth until his jaw ticked. To know that she’d been without peace the entire time they’d been apart made his blood boil. He could picture it now, his taloned fingers closing around the limp throat of whatever beast had sought to destroy her. He simply needed a name. Then they would pray for death.

“I see…”

“You think it has something to do with V, or something to do with you?” Dante inquired, feeling the negative energy cascade off of his twin as he sat opposite him, Vivienne glancing between them both as they spoke. She still hadn’t fully processed their uncanny resemblance. It was… intriguing how different they were despite how similar they somehow still managed to be. Like dark reflections of one another. Opposing faces on the same coin.

“Potentially both.” There was a vacancy to his tone of voice that betrayed his idle train of thought. His mind was elsewhere, his fantasies growing ever darker as he combed through the recesses of his mind in silent rage, compiling a list of likely suspects. Vergil had amassed many enemies during his tenure upon terra firma, but very few of them still drew breath. He’d seen to that personally. Swiftly. Ruthlessly. This would be no different.

Vivienne would have her peace. He would assure no less.

Dante nodded in agreement. Humans attached to their bloodline had a tendency to suffer for it. Perhaps the mere act of bearing V into existence had permanently branded her with the scent of their demonic essence. It was impossible to know. But she was with them now. And they would move hell itself to assure that no harm came to her. 

“I remember Nero saying something about his girlfriend’s parents getting attacked by some demons who might have followed him to their house. Seems to be a trend?” Dante said nonchalantly, sighing in apparent dismay. It was a small wonder that Vivienne was still walking the earth. And fully intact, no less. Twenty years was a long time to be plagued by frequent demon attacks. It was a wonder they’d never crossed paths through his line of work.

“It does, yes.” Vergil concurred, a touch more engaged in the conversation but no less enraged. He had… much to consider.

“Nero?”

Vivienne raised an eyebrow, a perplexed but curious twinkle in her eye. Now that was a name she was sure she hadn’t heard either of them mention just yet. Her curiosity was evident from her tone alone, the unspoken question on her lips being clear as day. Who was Nero?

The realization hit Vergil all at once, snatching him from his previous train of thought at lightspeed. His entire body down to the breath that left his lungs froze as he utterly failed to properly process the feeling of dread that overtook him as he realized what he’d just done.

Vergil let out a long sigh and leaned over, resting his head against his palm as his elbow came to a stop against his knee. Dante was tragically good at ousting him at the worst possible times, wasn’t he? And this time he’d helped him do it. He’d already been well aware of the fact that he had to tell her about his second son at some point, but he hadn’t expected that point to come before they even made it back to the office. This was not a conversation he wanted to have aboard a train in full view of the public, but it seemed that the time had come regardless.

“We… need to discuss something.”

(-~-)

Oh boy, Vergil is going to have to have one hell of a conversation. Oh, dear… Bye hey, I hope you liked the chapter despite how late it is! See you in chapter 82! It’s going up a few minutes after this one.

[iszapizza]

Them

(I know this is a ship meme but I wanted to do this with them. PLEASE don’t tag as a ship, thank you)

[liibrra]

SSSnoring

[alicethenobody]

This post is just my interpretation of the characters of course, not saying anything I say here is totally factual.

Dante and Nero are similar in a lot of ways, yet so very different in the way they treat their part human part demon nature.

If Vergil was burying the light (his humanity), Dante was burying the darkness (his inner demon). Ever since his mom died he suppressed his demon side, pretending he was a full human in his Tony Redgrave days. Not even the people closest to him (Grue and Nell) knew about his relation to Sparda.

Dante eventually accepted that part of himself, but it’s evidenced that he still hates said part. For example, in the DMC5 novel it’s explained he didn’t want to go to Patty’s birthday party because he’d be surrounded by “normal” (in his words) people and he doesn’t consider himself normal (though he plans to go see her after the mission anyways and the party has died down because he cares a lot about her) he very much has a “Everything I touch dies” mentality because in his mind his relation to Sparda is why the shit with Gilver (who was created by Mundus) happened and Grue, Jessica, and Nell suffered the consequences. This might also explain a lot about why in 3 he resented Sparda and the fact that he was related to him, constantly having demons ruining his life. And he hated the fact that he was part demon himself because demons are the reason he lost the people he loves. That’s why, despite his love for humanity and caring so much about his friends, he keeps the people he loves at a certain distance, he thinks it’s the only way to protect them. This extended to his nephew.

As for Nero? He started off similarly, hating his demonic side (growing up in Fortuna fucking sucked) and pretended to be fully human like Dante did as Tony by hiding his arm. When he asked Kyrie if “this is what she wanted” she essentially told him she wanted all of him, that included the part of himself that he hated. Ultimately, because he had someone like Kyrie, he was able to do something Dante couldn’t: He learned to love his demonic side, not even trying to hide his arm anymore when 5 takes place.

While Vergil’s theme is about burying his humanity, and Dante’s theme being about his inner demon wanting to break free, Nero’s theme is about embracing that side of him and wearing who he is on his sleeve.

Dante helped Nero a lot in DMC4 and was kind of a mentor figure to him. While Nero didn’t openly show it at the time, he really looks up to Dante and respects him, the fact that Dante accepted him as part of his business must’ve meant a lot to him. DMC5 ends with Nero returning the favor, by helping Dante realize he didn’t have to kill his brother again and that he could change and that they could mend their relationship. I think Nero would be the perfect person to help him maybe not hate himself for who he is so much? They’re both very good hearted people but I think Dante needs to be shown that being as self sacrificial about things as he is isn’t what’s best for him or anyone really.

[harpybats]

don’t ask what prompted this.

[deadscell]

family bonding time……